Between Insanity And Flamboyance
by Kiba Duncan
Summary: Nearly two years have passed since Jason left Rook Island, with the idea that Vaas, Citra and Hoyt are dead. But they aren't and they still playing those power games. Now we are in the year 2014 - King Pagan Min was expulsed from Kyrat by his formal foster-son Ajay Ghale and escaped with a helicopter. His basic intention was to fly to the Maledives Islands - but things got worse...
1. Chapter 1 - The Crash

**Chapter 1 - The Crash**

Ajay Ghale had left him alive. The son of his beloved Ishwari had showed mercy and let him escaped with the helicopter completely unharmed, to finally leave this kingdom. Although the heart of the former, tyrannical dictator Pagan Min was in his mouth, because _his_ boy just could have shot him with a rocket launcher – Up here, in the safety sky, he acted like he was victorious. Victorious, although he had lost. Had lost a lot. Lakshmana, Ishwari, Ajay – the last link to his former lover. The boy, which he had raised the first three years of his life. And finally even Kyrat, which he stole so meticulously many years ago.  
But ruthless as he was, he forced himself to smile. _No need to panic – I've lost Kyrat, but in China I'll be able to get back into the drug business very easily, thanks to my name._ _Reach out for the right people hands and they'll fall for you..._ , the distinguished man thought smiling and played with his golden pen. He let it dance through his fingers and watched how it sparkled and glittered in the sunlight. But first he wanted to fly to the Maldives Islands – to one of his holiday houses. Re-arrange things. Gary – his extremely loyal assistant – was already waiting for him. He had sent him ahead, days before this happened.  
The loud sounds of the flying object, the roar of the engine and the noisy flutter of the propeller – Pagan ignored all those things while he stared thoughtfully at his pen. How it turned, just like the air-screws of the helicopter.

Suddenly there was a quiet tooting noise, then a beeping and the dictator looked up – He lost his pen. It fell on the floor, barely audible thanks to the loud surrounding. It slipped over the metal and under one of the seats, where it couldn't be seen anymore.  
"Mayday", the typical phrase of the pilot Zhōng, in the same stereotypical tense voice, which one would expect in a situation like this: "We're loosing control. The engine must be damaged."  
It shook. It shook very unpleasantly and the stutter of the motor could be heard very clearly. "I hate... when things get out of control", the former leader of Kyrat said dry, with a bitter voice and a sarcastic smile. Once again a certain fear came over him and adrenaline rushed through his entire body. He could feel the heartbeat up to his temples. The co-pilot Kamran left the small cockpit to get back to Pagan. He yelled as loud as necessary: "YOUR HIGHNESS? WE'LL HAVE TO JUMP!"  
 _Jump?_ , the Chinese man thought and just for a short moment, his brown eyes showed the fear, which he actually felt. How high were the chances of survival? He already got a parachute as they took off... but would it open? Where would they land? Into the water? His head turned around, looked out of the window – again the engine made fatal sounds. The thing was still flying, holding itself up in the sky – rather bad than right. Pagan Min moved closer to the edge and the co-pilot spoke calmly: "Look – over there. Islands! Zhōng will still take us as far as he can – then we'll jump! We'll be able to land on one of these islands with our parachutes!"  
The blonde man swallowed – nodded. Yes. That'd work. What kind of death would it be, to be spared, just to die later in a crash during the 'escape'? It just couldn't end like that. No. Pagan would survive this, just like he survived the uprising of the rebels.  
"Ten seconds left", the pilot screamed and the co-pilot pulled the ousted king of Kyrat up to his feet – the sliding door was opened and without remorse, the icy air banged loudly in the ears of the oldest man. It shook again and the pen moved again. It slipped like a wet soap at the edge of a bathtub. Min didn't track the motion until the very last moment, as the object moved past him and fell out of the open door of the helicopter. Down into the blue. HIS FUCKING, GOLDEN PEN! That thing meant the world to him – Ishwaris gift! Unbelievable, that he was still able to complain about it in silent, although he was about to follow into the unknown.  
"THREE!", Pagan's heart beat wildly. The adrenaline in his veins seemed to suppress every bit of oxygen – At least it felt like he would choke at any moment.  
"TWO!", the co-pilot pulled him to the door of the helicopter and twaddled something about 'pulling a cord'.  
"ONE!", a last breathe.  
Then a rough push at his back – the king lost the floor under his feet. Temporary the beeping noise of the engine cut off and the wind lashed through his ears, echoing loudly. He only noticed the fact, that the co-pilot jumped right after him, as he heard the man yelling: "PULL THE CORD!"  
Instinctively the dictator ran his hands over his body until he actually found the ripcord of his parachute and gave it a strong pull. With a sudden, violent jerk he was stopped from the free falling. The wind got quieter – the feeling to fly got a little bit safer. He was nearly numb for any other sensations. The voice of the co-pilot became very dull. The attempt to look around, to look up, back to the helicopter was barred by the wide fabric of the parachute, which slowed down his fall. But he could hear it barely rotate. A second later he saw the black metal-monster fall unrestrained into the sea. Just like a stone it crashed down and slowly disappeared into the deep blue. Pagan Min didn't want to guess how high they were – but he saw the green treetops of the island they talked about. Kamran managed to get close enough to him to order the king, which the proud ruler obeyed. Pull here and pull there to guide this thing in the direction of the northern island. Wasn't even that hard, was it? But why didn't the adrenaline decrease? He had done something like that a few times already... Even just for pure entertainment!  
A few minutes they glided through the air – at least it felt like minutes to Pagan – maybe it were just seconds, but maybe even hours. Suddenly – shots. If the former king hasn't been shocked enough already, he probably would've been able to swear. But right now some bullets went past him and ripped holes into his parachute. The pilot screamed – and the co-pilot called his name: "Zhōng!"  
Pagan didn't want to know if that was a good or a bad thing. Good, because he was alive and managed to get out of the fucking helicopter – bad, because his voice sounded very painful: "JUST A GRAZE, KAMRAN!"  
The holes slowly tore the fabric of the parachute apart and the blonde Chinese lost the control over it. "HIGHNESS!", Kamran yelled, as he noticed that Pagan sank faster than before. But it couldn't be helped. Words couldn't stop a ripping cloth. Pagan got faster and started to fall instead of gliding. The treetops came dangerously closer. No matter how hard he tried to pull up and maybe manage to land on the clear space – It was completely hopeless.  
His body crashed into the branches with full force, which bruised his legs and arms. Some of them even hurt his face, many others left unpleasant wounds and ripped his sinfully expensive attire. Sounds of pain left Pagan's throat: "Ghrra... argh... khh..."  
The last branch which he remembered hit him near his left eye. Then there was again a forceful jerk and the king hang in the air. He hang and something chocked him. Upset and panicked his hands grabbed his throat – Cords... Ropes... something was there and cut off his air in a unpleasant manner: "CHRRRR! CHE...LP!"  
A nearly unintelligibly wheeze. He felt something hot running along his cheek, down his neck, his hands. One look explained immediately what it was – blood. The fall injured him and now he was trapped like a fish in a net, gasping for air, which he just couldn't get anymore. More and more panic, his hands pulled at the thin ropes, tried to get them off his throat – also hopeless.  
 _Don't die... Not like that!_

The adrenaline did what it was supposed to do and helped Pagan to last some more minutes in which he tried to not faint due to the air restriction and blood loss. But finally, everything around him got dark. Slow and agonizing he slipped deeper and deeper into a dark void.  
Far away, he thought he could hear a crackle. Did he feel something? Did he hear voices? Or was it just his imagination?  
Without being able to understand, the last spark of life left his body...

* * *

 _ **A/N**_

Olá internet people! 3  
So here it is, the very first chapter of **Between Insanity And Flamboyance.** For those who still do not know what's going on here: Pagan crashed on Rook Islands!

This is a story, originally written in german by me and a friend o'mine… another friend o'mine act like a fucking sweetheart and translate this shit, cuz I have no time to do this. 3 But I read this beta and upload it for you guys! So… there were some dudettes who wanna read this story, but they cant understand the german language… that's why we translate it! 3  
I hope you have fun and I see forward to hear from you guys in the comments! Just for you, you suckers 3!  
I love you guys! And I really appreciate that Damien will keep translating 3  
Oh and, by the way: Our english is not very well, so please: it's pretty ok if you point out errors to me!

 **As usual, I don't own or profit from anything UBISOFT has created...**


	2. Chapter 2 - Meanwhile

**Chapter 2- Meanwhile**

"Hey! Vaas. Vaas!", the skin of the yelling pirate was colored in a crimson tone. A pretty mean sunburn adorned his face and upper body.  
 _Must have fallen asleep in the blazing sun_ , the leader combined, as he turned around to the other guy with disinterest. The pirate supported himself on his thighs, gasped for air. Vaas himself was located a fair way off from a big camp on the northern island, on one of the sandy elevations. He wasn't even aware of the crash on the other side of the island, about an hour ago.  
"What, Dan? What is it? I.. you know, Danny, I'm really busy here. So would you PLEASE just spit it out already?", the pirate lord stood up and turned around to Dan completely. Impatient and obviously annoyed.  
"I'm about to show the island to the cute Rook. You know...-", Vaas spread his arms to the side and slowly rotated around his own axis.  
"She doesn't see the full magnificence and the view, we have from up here. She has no appreciation for it. The expanse. The silence. The palms trees. White beaches. Sea. Water. Sand. Sun. Sand. Water. She doesn't see it. Can't you see the FUCKING paradise?!", within seconds the black-haired changed from a casual chat tone to pure aggression. The mere control and suppression of it made him quiver. Near the end of the sentence, he faced the young woman to his feet again. Her blonde angelic curls stuck to her disfigured face in bloody strands. Snot, Water and blood. A whimper escaped her and she curled up into a ball in fear, as she was focused by the insane leader once more. This was his way to kill time. The game with the hostages. Dan made use of Montenegro's flood of words and caught his breath. Now the fair-haired man raised up to his full size, the eyes fixed on Vaas.  
"The outpost reported a plane crash.", to emphasize his words, he held up his mobile radio, shook it carefully. If the pirate lord had remembered to take his own radio with him, Dan wouldn't had to tire himself out by running up this hill. Of course it was a way more pleasant decision to leave this comment unsaid. One could never predict the reaction of the the dark-haired. Never. Vaas could have brightest mood, one wrong word could mean a turn of 180 degree. Or the other way around.  
Almost tender, said man patted the head of the young woman, while his attention lay on Dan. He straightened himself, stretched gently.  
"There are hostages. Three in number. Hurt. Jumped off with parachutes above the island. They look pretty... Chinese. Japanese. Or whatever. Well-heeled, we assume. At least one of them. Fancy suit..."  
"Fancy suit. Well, well.", Vaas ran his finger along his bottom lip. "Are they in the camp yet? Why are they in the camp already? WHY do I hear about that only now...!?"  
Dan prepared for an answer, probably a defense, however, he wasn't even able to speak up. Vaas put him off.  
"Then I'll take a look at them now, our new friends. Chinese guys! Fancy suit!" He started to move and gave the other a mischievous grin. At the height of the other, he stopped for a second: "Oh hey, Danny-Dan? Be a good boy and take Rooky back to the camp.", the grin persisted, while he tapped Dan on his shoulder, friendly and surely a little harder than necessary - fully aware of the sunburn.

* * *

 _ **A/N**_

Olá internet people!  
So here it is, the second chapter of **Between Insanity And Flamboyance.**

If there are any questions or remarks just write it down :)  
Thanks to Damien and I hope u guys like it!

 **As usual, I don't own or profit from anything UBISOFT has created...**


	3. Chapter 3 - Good morning, princess

**Good morning, princess**

Back in the camp, Vaas had to admit: The hostages looked like shit. The crash must have hit home. One of their doctors had at least taken care of their wounds roughly. After all, no one would make a use of it, if their new guests would perish due to the injuries.

Pagan had fallen deep into unconsciousness, that he didn't get any of all that. What he had heard and felt was reality... not imagination. But while he was in this trance-like state, he couldn't make a difference between those two. So he got fished out of the trees and taken to the camp of the pirates, who had control over the northern island. He didn't notice the medical treatment, neither the screams of his two underlings, who got treated by full consciousness. None of their words made him wake up, not even as they yelled his name. Kamran had a branch pulled out of his thigh and Zhōng struggled so hard against the pirates, that they battered him without further ado. Kyrat's former king himself didn't get away any better. Scratches in the face, which got poorly aided. One of them was deep on his usually flawless cheekbone. His neck still showed clear bruises from the ropes of the parachute, which had cut off his air. At the alcohol, which was used to sterilize his wounds, his body reacted only natural and he creased his face. He also didn't notice, how he got tied up and locked into a cage. Vaas crouched down in front of said cage and took a closer look at the newcomers. The one who clearly drew his interest was no one else but the gentleman in the suit. Because he definitely didn't look cheap. And not cheap meant useful.

"Now... Well, so.. you wake up? Come on.. Hey, pretty suit? Wake up. Quick. You slept long enough...", Vaas tilted his head, the eyes stared at the hostages while he babbled in a calm voice. His fingers tapped impatiently against the bars. Action. Vaas wanted action. Only for a short moment he turned his head to watch how the blonde Rook, daughter of a rich 'money man', got locked up in the opposite cell. For now she had lost her charm.

It took time... it took a long time until the rich Chinese – because by Kyrat's gods, he really was rich – came to himself. Still in the semi-conscious state, he had noticed how someone crouched down in front of him... In front of him? No, not directly... The eyes opened and his head turned limply. He heard a man talking... indistinctly... dull... something about a suit and waking up. Pagan's head ached, the alcohol permeated his wounds. Hissing he pulled in the air and made a painful grimace. The fine curved brows narrowed and he frowned. Nearly unintelligible he started to mumble: "Whe... am..."

Slowly, his mind and sight got clearer. He apprehend the sounds, the activities of the pirates – the reek of... yes, of what actually? The Chinese man blinked. Once. Twice. Again his head wobbled a little and he had a hard time trying to lift it up and look around. Squares... Rods? Wooden rods, fixed with hemp ropes... _Cage?_ , was the only word which came to his mind. The pathetic attempt to move made clear, that he was tied up. "Ghhh...", a strained sound from Min's throat – his gaze continued to wander around. He sat on a damn cold, dirty floor. His pink trousers were ripped at some parts. One shoe was missing. And then, there was Zhōng, sitting in front of him. Beaten up and his head hanging down – tied up.

NOW... only NOW it became clear for the dictator, that something was wrong... immensely wrong. Once more the adrenaline rushed through his body and brought him to his senses entirely. A little high-spirited he jolted at the fetters – typical human behavior. A bit too fast he yanked his head up to also detect, where the voice was coming from. It hurt... The wound was deep. "Kshhh...", he hissed, racked with pain, and finally looked into the face of the person, who had spoken to him.

Dark green eyes watched observantly and a spark of euphoria flashed through the body of the pirate lord. His tied up counterpart moved slowly. Gingerly. Awake!

Vaas savored this moment. He enjoyed it each and every time: The disorientation of an awakening hostage. The helplessness. The interplay between the emotions, from confusion to fear, to anger, to sheer panic. And he was the one to hold all the reins. Meanwhile darkness set in. Torches and a camp fire bathed the location in a unsettling, flickering orange light. While during day the heat was partly unbearable, the nights were bitingly cold. A gust of wind made the shine of the fire dance on the tanned face of the pirate in an uneasy way. His eyes widened and he examined his awakening guest, meanwhile actually beaming with joy. The flickering torches didn't help Pagan's mind to get clearer. Quite the contrary – still being pretty woozy, the light play turned Vaas' face into a sinister, hideous face. Even the smile and friendly voice didn't make up for that.

"Ahh. Heey. Finally awake, as I see.", Vaas' voice was calm. Friendly and almost gentle. A wide smile lay on his lips, which he moistened with his tongue. His glance flashed over the other two guys, before he gave the man in the suit his full attention once more. "Well. Your friends... Ah. It's okay if I'm not being formal with you, isn't it? Yeah. Sure. You know, I don't really like... this pretentious pseudo-courtesy-attitude. Here, we're not that divorced from reality. We're grounded. You understand?", an amused laugh escaped the dark-haired, as he noticed the unintentional pun. "Yes... grounded. You're grounded as well, huh?", he made a long-drawn-out whistling sound, while he imitated a crashing air plane with his hand.

Distrustful but relatively collected – probably more collected than any other hostage Vaas ever had – he watched his facial expression and gestures. Was he just asked if it's okay to be informal towards him? If only his head wouldn't buzz so much. This guy's way to talk drove Pagan almost mad. So fast, so unbridled... so careless. _Grounded?_ , was everything the elder Chinese could ask himself, while the tanned man with the mohawk continued to gesture and made cheerful whistling sounds. Sure... the crash. The overthrown king still didn't know how to rate this guy. He could barely make any straight thought and many of the things he said just rushed past him and his consciousness. Only one thing was certain – he had a miserable sense of humor, similar to his own. The first logic and human question which came from the elder man was simple. A little clearer than before but still strained, the words passed his lips: "... Where ...?"

Yes, Min wanted to know that at first... Where the hell was he? But simultaneously he remembered something – searching, like a chicken searched for grains, he looked around on the floor... just for a brief moment, until he collected all the thoughts. Ajay, Kyrat, the escape... the crash and last but not least the attack on the parachutes. The landing in the branches and the supposed death. No. He wasn't dead. _I'm alive_ , was the logical consequence, which encouraged him for a bitter, short laugh – barely audible: "... Heh-he... Sh..it..."

"Well. I got off the topic. Anyway... your friends..", he shook his head, "...are none too big roly-poly toys. Unlike you. Got a nasty bashing. Your fancy suit too. A real bother, huh?"

Vaas shifted his weight a little and leaned gently against the bars, the fingers of the right hand snagged into the square-shaped gaps. As he talked about Zhōng and Kamran, the old gentleman looked rather ponderous in their direction. Both of them sat there, like wet bags of rice. "Khh... wond-ah-erful", Min gasped and let his head hang down limply again – a bitter smile on his lips. And something like that he called his best subordinates? He remained calm. No – that didn't discomfit him. During the little battle he had with Ajay, also some way better men had to give their life. De Pleur, Erik... Yuma. So it bothered him less to lose Zhōng and Kamran.

 _Something..._ , Vaas thought.  
There was something with this guy that he didn't like. But the dark-haired couldn't describe yet what exactly it was. But SOMETHING caused his pulse to speed up. Once more the pirate shifted weight. An inner unrest spread out in Vaas' body, who tended to be unable to hold still anyway. Suddenly and with a mere frantic movement, the dark-haired stroked through his ragged mohawk, as if a sudden inspiration or some such hit him. The hand rested at the back of his neck. The pirate's eyes flashed from his conversational partner to his lips, which showed a bitter smile. Then to the awakening hostage and back again. "What's so funny? Huh? What makes you smile?"

Vaas watched his captive disparagingly. The panic. The horror. That's it! That's what bothered him. The eyes of this man were too calm. Too controlled. The horror was missing. That's what bugged him so much!

But Pagan was too busy with himself – after all, he was alive. _Yes, I live... and I'm... tied up? Captured?_ , the glimpse of the Chinese went back up, back in Vaas' face. He repeated himself, still obviously groggy: "Where am I?"

Again a laughter from the pirate lord. "Man. It's really FUNNY that you ask. HEY DANNY! He wants to know where he is!", Vaas' head jerked in the direction of the camp fire, where a small group pirates stood. One of them raised his hand, as a signal that he heard him. Grinning, Vaas turned back to the elder gentleman. _Funny? - Goodness... Where did I end up_ , the small, faint voice in the back of his head asked sarcastically, and he tried to listen as concentrated as possible.

"'cause I already explained.. my good, very good friend, Rook-", casually the pirate pointed at the young woman, which lay on the floor in her cage, curled up in a ball. "-where we are. Rooky? Can you tell him where we are? ..No.. No?" Once more Vaas turned around to the girl. Nothing happened. She was in the margins of unconsciousness. Apparently the little trip was too much for her weakened body. While Vaas babbled something about Rook – a glance to the other cage lead to the assumption, that it was that young woman, which lay huddled on the floor. The Chinese did that to be able to mentally follow him. In his condition it was harder than expected. He examined the woman in the opposite cage – his view was blurred, but she certainly didn't seem to be as fresh as a daisy. Which in turn lead to the assumption that this guy had to be at fault for her state. On the one hand, Pagan found it interesting, on the other however, he didn't want to end up like her. Vaas shook his head with a sigh, before he faced the man again. "In paradise. Welcome in the paradise. My paradise. Our paradise. THE paradise. Now, mister fancy suit... After I justified myself so nicely to you, may I know with whom do I have the pleasure of speaking? Surely your etiquette dictates that, no?"

Pagan looked at the clothing of the speaker: _Paradise_?. As such Kyrat's king would have described his former kingdom. THAT was the paradise. And then the counter question – who he was. Well, Min had several possibilities. He could lie and keep the famous name a secret by just saying another one. Or he could say, he can't remember it. Amnesia. Then there was the possibility to tell the truth. The chances were fifty-fifty that he was known here. It was also fifty-fifty, whether they would pay him respect or take advantage of it. Because to be honest – a friendly dinner, like he had arranged for Ajay in Kyrat, was something he didn't expect from this place. He decided within a few seconds. With the greatest effort he then brought out his words: "Min... My name... is Pagan Min..."

The dictator remained calm. There was no fear in his eyes, only distrust and maybe a little bit of scorn. And he didn't ask for the name of his keeper yet. It seemed to be the wrong point of time...

"Min. Pagan Min.", Vaas repeated slowly. The eyes appraised his opposite.

 _These eyes_. His look. This mixture between scorn and distrust. Now the pirate's lips were hardly more than a thin line, as he firmly pressed his lips together. The smile had disappeared from his face. His gaze was fixed at Pagan Min. The way this guy looked at him right now, reminded Vaas of his sister's eyes. Eyes, which he didn't want to be remembered of.

But the pirate didn't move. For now he seemed to be content by just staring at the elder. However, Pagan knew exactly how his glimpse looked like – he knew how to use his expression and gestures skillfully – just like his usual wisely chosen words. And his counterpart – this pirate. Could one even call him a real pirate? This man was the complete opposite of him. Probably each of his underlings thought he'd be unpredictable. While in reality, he was nothing but a primitive monkey, like all of them. But to speak things like that out loud, while one was sitting in a cage – no. Talk about the pot calling the kettle black, as the saying goes. Right now he was the animal, which was trapped and these men were the visitors of the zoo. To compare them to monkeys now, would be a fatal mistake. Also, the former king didn't even think about begging them to let him out. De Pleur used to say: 'If you have absolutely no idea, just play along'. Probably the best advice, he ever gave to him.

Under pain he tried to straighten himself a little, tottering he sat up so that the bars shook: "I beg your pardon but... are the fetters under these circumstances really necessary?"

 _Good idea, Min, try to be diplomatic with a supposedly maniac..._ , his sarcastic mind stated. Then, suddenly a snort escaped from the pirate.

"Begging my pardon?!", Vaas echoed hoarser laughing, "Are these fetters...? - You're asking me in all seriousness if these fetters are NECESSARY?!"

The pirate leaned back a bit, showed a head-shaking. Disbelief reflected in his mien and again he gave out a short laughter. The young, black-haired man repeated half of the sentence, before he backed up a little and shook his head again. Then he pulled himself close to the rods – Pagan realized that he'd prefer to be locked and in safety, instead of having to face him in this condition outside the cage. Tied up or not suddenly didn't matter anymore, as Vaas pressed his forehead against the wood and started to wildly throw around with insults: "Shall I tell you something, CHINKY EYE?! I do NOT like your manner. Your whole... MANNER! I find... your eyes. Your SHITTY FUCKING EYES! What are you LOOKING at!? If you don't stop to LOOK at me with that FUCKING glimpse, I'll gladly-", his fingers had slid to his belt and now, in the fiery glow, there gleamed the blade of his knife. But there was not a single movement in Pagan's face. Not even a twitch, only an unimpressed blink, while he insulted his eyes and glimpse several times – so utterly uncontrolled, like ... ... like... no, there simply wasn't any proper comparison. His look – which was hated by Vaas – focused on his knife – now also the amount of respect in his eyes decreased and he had to ask himself mentally: _Really? How primitive..._

With a fast movement the pirate leaped around the corner of the cage, so that he now was directly behind the hostage. Min's head tried to follow the tanned man – without avail. Because when he finally crouched behind him, it was out of his sight. The gaps of the wooden rods were large enough, so that it was easy for Vaas to push his arm inside. One hand clung to the shoulder of the man, dragged him with the back against the bars.

"Khhrff", the Chinese gasped strained, as he was pulled closer to the bars with his shoulders. His face lost shape just for a moment – then it smoothed again. His whole body ached. It ached from the fall and the branches, which had fun whipping it – probably he was covered in bruises and grazes. The hand with the knife was at the side of the hostage's face, the cold blade was resting directly below his eye. Vaas' breath was jerky and warmly brushed over the nape of the blonde. "Those fucking eyes!"

However, the blade which was held below his eye made Pagan smile once more. A quiet, short giggle – bitter. This situation was so bitter, that he just couldn't hold back his grim sense of humor. _Terrorists... They really destroy EVERYTHING_ , he thought and put Vaas and his men on the same level as those from the Golden Path. The warm breath on his nape let him shudder for a second. With each passing minute the air got freezing cold... and to be pulled so ungentle against another warming body: Was it good or bad? If he looked upon the situation objectively and considered the blade on his cheek, he'd say: BAD!

In the meantime Kamran started to move, coughing and gasping – Zhōng stayed unconscious. Pagan just looked at the co-pilot.

"Your... highness...", it sounded weak from Kamran, as he saw how Vaas sat behind him and threatened him. But Pagan remained silent – smiling. He was captured but still proud and confident. What a sick, absurd mixture.

"Vaas!", an exhorting voice rang out, "Come on, man." Placatingly. Careful.

 _Vaas? Well, well..._ , now, that already was worth a mint. So he didn't have to show any weakness by asking for his name. More haste, less speed – and unlike said pirate, Pagan had as much patience as this island had sand. Stolidly he looked ahead and kept smiling.

Apparently it was enough to bring the leader back down to earth, because now he exhaled noisy and slowly pulled the knife back.

"I just can't stand it if someone FUCKING stares at me like that!", briefly, the grip on Pagan's shoulder tightened, before the hand disappeared completely.

As the blade was removed, the breath on his nape disappeared and also the body behind him vanished, the Chinese closed his eyes for a moment. Relieved. But Kamran sighed clearly eased – Pagan only looked to him quickly and gave him a frowning glance. He shouldn't make such a fuss! Patience was a virtue. And it left back Pagan Min so glorious.

"But hey. It's cool. Everything's cool. I'm gonna chill.", Vaas put the knife back in his belt and raised his hands in an almost innocent way, so that his palms showed outward. No weapon. Nothing to worry about. He was the calmness itself.

"It's all cool.", he repeated once more, this time with his eyes on Pagan Min, while he retook his original position. The black-haired man with mohawk crouched 'beside' him at the cage again.

"You... ... haven't answered my question yet, I guess", the Chinese started, politely as always and stayed formal with his tormentor, like nothing ever happened. He avoided to name the man's bad nerves – Not that the guy felt insulted... not again... and although it was hard for him to speak, he behaved collected and calm – even if strained: "The fetters... I'm not able... to make decent moves anyway."

This pisser got so damn fucking badly on Vaas' nerves! Again he was that calm! He was very keen to just rip this stoical calmness from the damn Chinese's face. Wanted to see him crawl in the sand. Vaas let out an enervated, audible exhalation.

Once again, Pagan made a wretched attempt to re-position himself, what turned out to be a hard task due to the pain and his physical weakness. So he proceeded: "Also, I think I may be dehydrating. I won't be able to cause much trouble. And as I rate you and your crew, I won't be unobserved anyway, isn't that true?"

Whether it was smart or not to give such direct words to such a hothead was questionable, yes. But where others would whimper and cry, what probably entertained this Vaas guy to a certain point, the old man in the pink suit had such a calm temper, that he defied other hostages.

"Fine. Good, good, good. YOU know, Ming-Ming..."

 _Ming-Ming?_ , did Pagan just mishear it? No... probably not. As insane as this man – this Vaas – seemed to be, he most likely didn't mishear it. If Min would've had the possibility to do so, he'd stroke enervated over his scratched face. It was a humiliation. Yes, truly. Also if it reminded him in an amusing way of 'Ling-Ling'... This Pokémon-parody from the american late-night show 'Drawn Together'... Ah – the Chinese liked this show... Filled with humor and pointless violence – the former king could always enjoy it. Admittedly, this terrorist reminded him a little bit of it. Not explicitly at one of the characters... but rather his whole nature, which resembled the show. And he just continued to talk: "... you can consider yourself lucky. You live. Sit here, with your fancy pink suit. Keep your moronic slitted eyes. Still able to see.", for clarification, Vaas pointed at his own eye while he talked. "And yet... yet you're really GODDAMN ungrateful. But it's just like that... The phenomenon of spoiled brats. I've seen some of them come and go." The pirate leaned once more against the bars, his gaze went up to the sky, watching the stars dreamy. A posture one would usually only make, if they'd lie romantically in each others arms. The fact that this young guy called HIM impolite, because he didn't give thanks to him? _Good heavens, does he even see himself and his own methods?_ , a rhetorical question... Min already understood that his counterpart had a rather 'alternative' reasoning.

"Yes. A lot of spoiled brats. Sometimes you just HAVE to show them the FUCKING serious side of life! Then they cry their eyes out.", Vaas returned to his original position and watched the fallen king. This time his face was relaxed and on his lips there was an almost indulgent smile. Friendly. With eyes as soft as those from a deer. Again he gave an elongated sigh. "We'll get you there as well."

A small laughter. Inappropriately – No, APPROPRIATELY at the very same moment, as the alleged leader of his crew said so cheerfully, that he'll cry his eyes out as well. _So sure, boy?_ , he asked himself and seemed to smile at him with mockery – challenging, without really saying it. As a gentleman, which the Chinese was, it was easy for him to make things clear without speaking them out loud. But no, he couldn't agree with Vaas on that. Pagan wasn't the type to cry – not in front of others. He was a person who made others cry and beg – just like this terrorist in front of him. Vaas let some minutes pass, in which he simply watched the other. Calm. Then he turned his head in the direction of the other one – finally took notice of his consciousness.

"And you... also awake? Good, good.", admittedly: Vaas found the annoying Chinese way more interesting. "Keep an eye on your third buddy. If you think he's going to kick the bucket... make 'shoohoo' or something like that.", Vaas smirked, while he slowly got up and roughly brushed the sand from his pants.

A little doubting Pagan looked after him. Then, with a nearly ridiculously exaggerated gesture, the pirate implied a bow, which could have come straight from a movie. Obviously directed at the man in the pink suit. Pagan didn't even have to snort disparagingly... his glimpse and the pulled-up eyebrows said so much more, than words ever could. In return, there was a mischievous grin on Montenegro's lips. Indeed he didn't take note of it in an obvious way, but the quiet gasp of the other man definitely didn't escape his attention. Your highness. Vaas was sure he didn't mishear it. Your highness. THAT sounded valuable.

 _In what... goddamn kind of plight did I end up here?_ , he asked himself and looked over to Kamran and Zhōng. At least his co-pilot seemed to get more awake and moaned from the pain.

Vaas' arms were crossed behind his head, while he nonchalantly walked along one of the wooden gangplanks. To round out the picture completely, it probably only lacked the whistling of a cheerful song.

* * *

 _ **A/N**_

Olá internet people!  
So here it is, the thrid chapter of **Between Insanity And Flamboyance.**

If there are any questions or remarks just write it down :)  
Thanks to AGAIN Damien and I hope u guys like it!  
I trust him to translate it in a correct way :

Ohw yeah... for all those guys, who understand the german language... (this story got alot of austrian readers)  
Hier geht's zur deutschen Fassung der Geschichte:

www. fanfiktion .de/s/575c0b380001566625e3c352/1/Zwischen-Wahnsinn-und-Extravaganz

Dort sind bereits 19 Kapitel vorhanden ;)  
Bis die Tage/ See you guys later!

 **As usual, I don't own or profit from anything UBISOFT has created...**


	4. Chapter 4 - It takes its course

**It takes its course**

 _POV – Vaas_

Only as he was out of the sight of the cages, he slightly changed his posture. His steps returned to normal, or rather even sped up a little. "Yo, where did my fucking mobile radio go?"  
Shorty after, the pirate stood in one of the shacks, leaned against a table behind him.  
"Pagan Min. Yes.. Yeah, that's the guy's name. Sure... With us, in one of the cells. Kyrat? ... Yeah.. Yes, all right. See ya..."  
Loud static noise, followed by a dull 'flop', as Vaas let the mobile radio plop on the wooden table. Hoyt took a great interest. The pirate's jaw was pressed together tensely, while his eyes vacantly stared into space. Vaas didn't know by any stretch of the imagination, what he should think of the twist of events. Hoyt wanted to see the hostage in person. To harm him all too much wasn't allowed either. Regarding this, Hoyt made himself very clear.  
A silent growl escaped from Vaas, who pushed himself energetically off the table and rushed to leave the shack. Determined, he headed for the camp fire, but stopped the first of his men that ran into him: "EY! Go! Bring some water to the hostages! Make sure they drink enough. Also, check their fucking wounds again. Go!"

King of Kyrat. A fallen ruler, as it seemed. Only rarely, Vaas had witnessed Hoyt Volker being speechless. Tonight was one of those rare moments. Apparently they had a way bigger fish on the hook than they assumed thus far.  
A lot of people would have paid an amount of money which was off the roof. According to Hoyt there was place near Nepal, where a lot of stuff was going on, as it seemed. A civil war, and this guy over there wasn't only involved – he rather seemed to be its cause. Vaas lit up a cigarette by briefly holding it to the flames of the big camp fire. Meanwhile he stood in front of it, straddle-legged and the eyes focused on the terrific flames. Fire. Destructive and uncontrollable, if one unleashed it. Regarding this, it wasn't even so far-fetched that sometimes Hoyt compared the pirate lord's nature to the characteristics of fire in an almost appreciative way. Nevertheless, during the short exchange of words they had today, he told the pyromaniac in no uncertain terms that he had to hold back. At least with this one hostage he should keep his temper. Keep his temper!  
Displeased, Vaas spit into the flickering flames. He just couldn't be fucking serious! But damn! Vaas was sure he hadn't lost his mind, neither hallucinated. Thus, Hoyt had INDEED taken those words in his mouth. His heart pounded heavily in his chest, he could clearly hear the blood rush in his ears. A head-shaking. He was unable to grasp it. Did that just really happen?! He had done his fucking job and didn't even only get an rebuke, no, even worse. A completely harebrained fucking... stupid-ass order was given to him. Keep his temper! And Hoyt was going to arrive the next day to talk with the hostage.  
Vaas couldn't get away from the fact, that he absolutely did not like any of all that. If anything, it made him fucking furious. He just wanted to sell this moronic Chinese for a shit ton of money, after he had ripped this fucked up smile off his face. Where was the fun in it otherwise?

 _POV – Pagan_

Now, in the absence of Vaas, he gave despising words to Kamran: "Goodness, Jesus Christ, boy! Don't be so pathetic!"

A clear demand – it almost was embarrassing how his rebel presented himself. And the ruler had more guts than other hostages. Others would probably whine in collective and try to comfort each other – but the ex-dictator only gave harsh instructions. Authority – that what signified Pagan Min. Even tied up and captured, on a foreign spot of land, with a maltreated body and the clothing plucked like a chicken.  
But he was tired... so incredibly tired. The adrenaline waned again and the pain in his limbs started to throb. His head droned. And still – even if he was watched by this team of terrorists... he stared at Zhōng. Kicked him with his shod foot against his calf: "HEY! Zhōng! Wake up, damn it!"  
With the last three words, he kicked a little rougher – but the pilot stirred himself, equally moaning like Kamran did before: "Ngggghhh..."  
"Quit moaning, for fuck's sake...", the blonde man snarled angered, "At first you bring me into this plight and then you also moan? What wonderful subordinates do I have..."  
The former king of Kyrat could imagine very well, that the pilot probably didn't get anything of what he said. And in all this fuss and rage which built up, he at first didn't notice how the fresh and deep wound on his cheekbone opened and started to bleed. Strained, he moved his heavy head to look around. Vaas was definitely out of reach and these men, which probably should resemble something like his crew, were at any rate a poor imitation of a gang. Pagan wasn't impressed by it. He rather perceived it as pathetic.  
The wound and the blood sparkled in the flickering fiery glow and the Chinese shivered. Why? It was cold, the wind was cold... he was weak and tired... His hands got numb. Probably because the fetters were too tight... For the moment he didn't even notice that the blood already trickled down his cheek. His heart was beating fast enough to repeatedly push some blood out of the wound on the burst cheekbone, which dripped down onto his suit. As if he wasn't defaced enough already...  
As much as he wanted it – staying awake – he couldn't do it... Eventually there was this tunnel vision... Pagan Min's posture eased just a tiny bit and he exhaled audibly. He was getting too old for this shit. Barely just chased away from Kyrat, he now had to mentally and verbally thrash with a guy. On the low level of a baboon, only to show who had the redder ass... The tunnel vision grew stronger and it blazed white in front of his eyes. Nobody had to be set on him right now. His body was still too weak, too maltreated... And now his organism gave in. He put his head back, that his bleached and blonde shock of hair was hanging through the bars. One of the wooden rods lay horizontally against his nape, two others stood vertically against his head, fixed it. Pagan gasped: "Kh... Shhhhhit..."  
Again the blood loss became noticeable – not only his hands but also his arms started to get numb. And his throat, his mouth were so bone-dry... Min closed his eyes and smiled bitterly: That... just doesn't seem to be my FUCKING-WEEK!  
And again everything got heavier... Pagan fell asleep – Though probably not for long...

 _POV – General_

"Vaas? The condition of the hostages is... critical. I think the stay in the cage... isn't ideal in this situation. Especially as the night is pretty co-"  
"What..tsk, why are you going on my nerves with this crap now!? Why are you telling me this shit!? Am I your fucking babysitter? I said: Take care of the hostages. Didn't I say... take care of the hostages? ... So take care of the FUCKING hostages!", angered, Vaas pushed the pirate, who had assured himself of the desolated condition of the hostages only a few moments ago, in the direction of the wooden cages. The sudden force let the pirate tumble backwards, legs tangled up and clumsy, with a painful sounding crash, he landed on all four legs. At this sight, at least for a split second, an amusing glint flashed over the leader's eyes. However, the dark-haired's annoyed mood predominated.  
Then he should just resettle them for tonight. Responsibility could be really exhausting. Right now, Vaas had absolutely no desire to grapple with the hostages any longer. At least not after Volker's short announcement. The glimpse of the leader grimly flashed back into the flames. Okay. Play along. In- and exhale.  
"Go ahead."  
Vaas ignored the pirate, who struggled to get back on his feet, and reluctantly headed for the cages. Pagan slept – maybe he also only had swooned. He didn't know for how long he was out of it. He had no clock, no sense of time. But he felt anything but rested. Therefore the rest HAD to be short.  
"So, little princess! Subordinate servants of our cute highness Ming-Ming. Feel honored, you're allowed to stay the night in one of our luxurious mansions! No mosquito bites for the delicate skin."  
Vaas unlocked the cage and pushed it open with a languidly movement of his foot. Then he stepped aside, the arms crossed behind his head, the cigarette boredly clamped between his lips.

Admittedly, Pagan had not noticed the small turmoil which Vaas had made with his men at the big camp fire, however it was clear enough, as this Vaas talked again. The voice almost 'startled' him already - Just out of pure caution, to not be inattentive whenever he was near. This boy may have been a uncivilized monkey, nevertheless really as incalculable as fire. And in his condition he couldn't stem it. Maybe in other circumstances. He already had tamed so many lions with flaming hearts. On one more didn't matter anymore... Pagan opened his eyes as soon as he heard the word 'princess'. And his underlings should come with him as well? Was that some kind of special treatment? It was. Definitely... but why? The Chinese got distrustful. Very distrustful – one could also see it in his pained expression, as he was lifted up to his feet in an ungentle way. Montenegro had discreetly backed off indeed and left it to the crew members to untie the hostages and roughly set them on their feet to eventually head for one of the shacks. He observed, stayed in the background and kept giving orders to the pirates. An uncommon feeling because he usually preferred to sully his own hands. Pagan's gaze didn't deviate from Vaas. At first he seemed to want to do everything to remove his eyes with a knife and now he was holding back like that? Such a discrepancy may not had been noticed by others – but Pagan studied his counterpart always so close, that he noticed the slightest differences. But... no, maybe it only was a coincidence? He couldn't rate the terrorists that accurately to actually call it a misconduct. Also if he really held back completely, against every of Min's expectations.  
"Into the second shack. Mount a guard. And could you PLEASE send the doc. And bring some water to the Chinese... looks dehydrated.", it wasn't like Vaas was only just notified about this situation before from someone else.

Very... interesting boy – not exactly the sharpest tool in the box, or the fastest thinker... but interesting, he thought and turned his head after him, as he was pulled past him – to the second shack, as demanded by Vaas. All right – let's reconsider the situation, the overthrown king tried to think logical... but the headache didn't make it any easier. And the thought flew away all of a sudden, as he got fresh water. For a moment his face showed relief: "Oh, goddamned, thank you!"

His thanks was honest! He had decency after all – well, that and also he really was thankful for finally having some cool water to wet his dry throat. In such moments he wouldn't even had prefered seltzer. Zhōng and Kamran were supplied with water as well.

* * *

 **A/N**

So here is the fourth Chapter : Damien has a lot of fun, translating it.  
Hope you guys have fun, reading it!  
I'd love to read some reviews, I would like to get to know you guys  
Btw: Thanks to Naina24 for the very first review!

 **As usual, I don't own or profite fromanything UBISOFT created!**


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